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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27955352">lemonade</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/catboyysupremacy/pseuds/catboyysupremacy'>catboyysupremacy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cute Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), DreamTeam, M/M, Slow Burn, dreamnotfound, i dont know what to put here, we dont know nobody, yuh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:27:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>906</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27955352</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/catboyysupremacy/pseuds/catboyysupremacy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>on the corner of a busy intersection is a small cafe with tinted windows and a slanted brown roof. </p>
<p>george is a regular, clay just needed a charger.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>lemonade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i WILL be using real names in this book, especially dream's. it feels weird to do so, but it's all a part of the plot. i'm also making george stay twenty three in this because i don't like the number twenty four. i don't care if any cc's read this (not that they will), but if at any point they say fanfics are making them uncomfortable i WILL take it down. &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>on the corner of a busy intersection is a small cafe with tinted windows and a slanted brown roof. </p>
<p>	george usually doesn’t leave his home. when he does, he finds himself always returning to the cafe. the dark skinned barista with red lipstick greets him every time, his order of a medium lemonade and a plain  bagel with cream cheese engraved in her memory. he loves it here. </p>
<p>	the cafe isn't much. the menu's small and slightly overpriced, their wood-stained tables uneven, and the chairs always had someone’s mint gum stuck underneath the seat. nevertheless, it put george at ease. it's his comfort place, and he can't stop coming back.</p>
<p>	in his regular seat at the window overlooking the intersection, he sat with his drink and bagel, a tiny smile on his face as he watches an asian woman crossing the street in a maxi skirt and a flower tucked behind her ear. passing her is a tall white man, his head thrown back in a laugh, holding his phone against his ear, probably sharing a joke to his wife about a coworker.</p>
<p>	everything feels right to george. even the sun's shining brightly -- which is unusual in his hometown -- against people’s faces, letting brown eyes melt into honey and cheeks stain into roses. <em> it’s a nice day today. <em></em></em></p><p>
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<p>	george glances at his bagel briefly before pulling out his phone and earbuds, plugging them into his phone and then tucking them into his ears. quickly clicking onto his current playlist, he hovered his finger over the first song on his playlist. </p>
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<p>	<em> line without a hook — ricky montgomery. </em></p><p>
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<p>	in his latest call with his friends nick and alex, also referred to as ‘sapnap’ and ‘quackity’ online, the song somehow came up and they had it on loop for approximately thirty minutes, just listening to it and jamming out. they do this a lot; randomly calling each other late at night just to share music, all listening to it together for hours. the three of them and their other friend karl got super close recently, and they can't stop spending time together. whether it was streaming on their twitch channels, or laying in bed at three in the morning to talk about life — they're always together. </p>
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<p>	george places his phone down on the table, ready to delve into his food. as he began unwrapping the bagel, a pair of hands slam against the table a bit <em> too <em> aggressively, causing george to jump in shock. he nearly snaps his neck to look up at the person in front of him, his eyes finding a pair of frantic green ones.</em></em></p><p>
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<p>	“do you have a charger?” the boy questions frantically, an american accent laced with his words. george blinks, his heart beat racing from the fear of this boy. </p>
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<p>	“are you deaf?” the boy snaps, taking his hands off the table, standing up straight. he runs his hand through his blond hair, messing up the front of it. george blinks again, his mouth falling open slightly, only to close again. </p>
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<p>	“look, if i scared you, <em>my bad,<em>” the blond says, crossing his arms over his grey hoodie. “but i <em>need<em> a charger, so please answer me.”	</em></em></em></em></p><p>
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<p>	“n-no,” george replies softly. he scanned over the face of the boy, taking in the scattered freckles across his rosy cheeks. his lips were a bit thin and were slightly chapped. high cheekbones and a strong jawline. george found himself staring for a bit too long of course, as he usually does with boys he finds attractive.</p>
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<p>	“what?” the blond says exasperatedly, fingering through his hair again, messing it up even more. george frowns, shifting slightly so he's turned toward the boy. “what do you mean, 'what'?”</p>
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<p>	“how do you <em>not<em> have a charger?” he replies, putting one of his hands on his hips. “i mean you have to be like what, seventeen? sixteen? teens always have their chargers, so you're obviously lying to me.”</em></em></p><p>
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<p>	george’s jaw fell open in shock. <em>sixteen?</em></p><p>
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<p>	“<em>please<em> dude,” the boy says desperately. george leans back against the windowsill behind him, looking up at the tall boy. raising one eyebrow and keeping eye contact with the green eyed boy, he shakes his head, “i’m twenty three.”<br/>
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    <em> “twenty three?” the boy repeats, his eyes wide and voice loud. “no fucking way.”</em>
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<p>	“yeah,” george confirms, placing his elbow on the table, resting the side of his face in his hand. “and secondly, i don’t have a charger with me, why would i lie about that?”</p>
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<p>	“i don’t know,” the blond mumbles, biting his lip. he glances down at the seat in front of george, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. he makes a swift decision to sit down in the chair, scooting it forward so he was face-to-face with george.</p>
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<p>	“can i use your phone then? i really need to call someone,” he pleads, giving george a soft look. george raises his eyebrows, letting out a shocked laugh. “excuse me? i don’t even know you.”</p>
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<p>	the boy widens his eyes, laughing with a tiny wheeze, shaking his head slightly. “shit, my bad. i’m clay. twenty one, by the way.”</p>
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<p>	he holds his hand out to george. george looks down at his hand, noticing the tiny scars on his knuckles and the veins running down to his wrist. he bit the inside of his cheek, looking up at clay. </p>
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<p>	with a tiny blush on his cheeks, he took the larger hand in his own.</p>
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<p>	“i’m george.”</p>
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